


The Witch in the Gingerbread House

by DragonFish4



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, Implied/Referenced Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonFish4/pseuds/DragonFish4
Summary: Deep in the woods, it is said that an old witch lives in a house made of gingerbread. For children looking to escape a miserable home life, it's a place of refuge. But, one day, someone older arrives.
Kudos: 1





	The Witch in the Gingerbread House

Walking through the unfamiliar wood, Lucia repeated the old rhyme to herself.

  
_Walk until the moon is high  
Reflected in the blackbird’s eye  
Follow up the babbling brook  
To tree shaped like reaping hook  
Wander ‘til the path is lost  
And in the pre-dawn frost  
The scent of fresh baked bread  
Leads you to a safe, warm bed ___

Repetition had made it familiar, comforting. It gave her something to take her mind off of her aching feet and empty stomach. She couldn't remember how long she had been walking, but it felt like too long for it to still be dark as it was. A faint hope fluttered within her. Time was said to flow differently where she was going. The warm smell that filled her senses kindled it further. Before she knew it, she found herself in a clearing, the first soft rays of light just visible on the horizon. As she got closer to the house near the center of the clearing, she realized that it didn't seem to be made of wood or stone. Rather, it appeared to be made entirely of gingerbread, adorned with numerous other baked goods and confectioneries. She had found it. Relief flowed through her as she stepped up to the door, preparing to knock before anxiety froze her. A thousand 'what if's flooded her mind. There wasn't much time for her to spend questioning her decision, though, before the door opened of its own accord. "You know, it's considered somewhat rude to just stand on a person's doorstep without knocking," the elderly woman standing on the other side said. Even through her chiding, there was a warmth to her. Though Lucia didn't have many memories of her own, this woman seemed to be the embodiment of the very idea of 'grandmother'.  


"S- sorry," Lucia managed, "And sorry for being so old, too. It's just… Well, it's not my parents. It's my husband." A frown creased the old woman's face for a brief second.  


"It's quite alright, dearie. Why don't you come in? I've got some tea on." She stepped aside, motioning Lucia in. The cozy dwelling seemed to her like an apothecary and an antique shop had fallen into a cake. In front of the hearth, where flames danced cheerily, there was a small table set for two. An intricate spider's web of doilies sat like frosting over the bright pink tablecloth. Taking a seat, Lucia looked at her hands, which she had folded in her lap. With a pot of tea and a tray of cookies, the old woman took the other seat. "Help yourself to as many cookies as you'd like. I have plenty more," she said as she poured them both some tea.  


"Thank you," Lucia said, having to unexpectedly blink back tears at the small kindness.  


"Of course! You must be starving!" Settling into the chair, she motioned to two small containers on the table. “Do you take cream or sugar with your tea?”  


“A little bit of cream, please.” Lucia took the small pitcher offered, pouring some of its contents into her cup.  


"Now, why don't you tell me what brings you here?" the old woman said, modifying her tea to her own liking.  


"Where should I start?"  


"Wherever you'd like, sweetie."  


"I… I made a mistake when I was younger. I was barely eighteen, living in a nothing little town with few good options for a future. He was a drifter, getting by on his charm and wits. When he left, I went with him. It was like being caught in a whirlwind, dragging me every which way. At some point, we ended up married, though I couldn't tell you exactly when or where that happened. So much of that time is a blur. Things were good, mostly, for the first year or two, but…" Lucia trailed off, staring into her tea. Her vision blurred, tears falling onto hands as she blinked. With a deep breath, she felt words tumble out of her mouth. Years of hurt, secrets that no one would have listened to even if she could have told them, shames that she had hidden away. All the while, her host listened patiently, offering only the occasional reassurance or encouraging nod. When she had finished, all she could feel was exhaustion. The sound of a chair scraping the floor did nothing to draw her attention.  


"You poor thing. You must be so tired." The older woman put a hand on Lucia's shoulder, motioning her to follow. She let herself be led up a set of stairs that she would have swore had not been there earlier. There was a short hallway with several doors. Opening one revealed a small but cozy bedroom. The temptation of the comfortable bed quickly proved too much, and Lucia soon found herself snugly tucked in. "We can speak more once you've had a chance to rest, alright, dearie?" It was all Lucia could do to nod a response before falling asleep.

  


The first thing Lucia was aware of as she drifted back into consciousness was a weight resting on her torso. Blinking away the sleep, she found herself staring into the deep golden eyes of an ash-grey cat. Seeing that she was awake, the cat stretched and hopped off of the bed. Making its way over to the door, it paused and turned to look at her. Despite reluctance to leave the warmth of the bed, hunger motivated her to get up anyway. As she stepped into the hallway, the cat sauntered along a few steps ahead of her. On the way back downstairs, the hallway seemed to have a few more turns than she remembered it having the night before. The enticing smell of cooking food drifted up the stairs as she went down them. Covering the pink table was a variety of breakfast foods. Eggs cooked several different ways, bacon, sausage, toast, and several other things she didn’t quite see before being startled by a loud meow. The cat also caught the attention of the old woman, who had been focused on making tea. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I made a variety of things. Help yourself to what you’d like, dearie,” she said, taking the teapot over to the table. Lucia drifted over and took a seat. “What made you decide to leave?” the old woman asked gently, continuing their conversation as if it had been paused for just a moment. From a pocket, Lucia took a broken locket. The necklace had been snapped, hinge and metal bent, the small portrait inside torn.  


“I know it’s dumb. Petty, even, with everything else. But once he broke it, I just… I knew. Nothing was going to change. Not for the better, anyway.”  


“It’s not dumb, sweetie,” the old woman reassured, patting Lucia’s hand, “Now you should eat. You’re all skin and bones!” With what might have almost been a smile, Lucia made herself a plate of food. Her host watched her with kind eyes, but didn't take any food herself. A cold weight formed in Lucia's stomach, knowing why that was. The death sentence she had enacted.  


"There were good times, too," Lucia muttered.  


"Of course there were, dear. How else would he have lured you in? But that's all they were. Bait in a trap."  


"I know. Deceit's about all you can expect from a demon."  


"Don't call him that," the old woman tsked, "Demons don't choose to be what they are. _He_ did. People like that rarely change, either, because they do not want to. I've found only one way to deal with his ilk." A sharp-toothed grin was quickly replaced by a more soothing look. "But don't you worry yourself about that. Once you're full, why don't I show you around a little."

  


If Lucia had found the outside of the house to be odd, it was nothing compared to the inside. Not that the two seemed to line up in any way. There were far more rooms, and floors, than it seemed should fit within the moderately sized exterior. "This house," the old woman said with a slight smile when asked about it, "Does not exist entirely on a material plane." Though she wanted to ask more about it, she was distracted by a workshop with a peculiar array of tools. "Charm maker's tools," was the explanation given, followed by, "I can show you how to use them if you'd like. Later, though. You look absolutely famished. Why don't we go have a nice afternoon tea?" Warm sunlight streamed through the window as they chatted over some of the best tea and cookies Lucia could ever remember having. Afternoon faded into evening, which brought a heartening meal. Where her host got the ingredients or time used to make it, Lucia didn’t know, though it was hardly the biggest question she had. None of them mattered enough for her to ask, even as she was again led up to what was now her room. “Elin here will keep you company,” the old woman said, indicating the cat, who was busy getting comfortable on the foot of the bed, “And keep you from getting lost, if you choose to do a bit of exploring. This place can be a little… disorientating, if you’re not used to it.”  


“Thanks.” Lucia hesitated. “I don’t think I caught your name.”  


“You can call me Mildred,” her host smiled, before wishing her a good night and taking her leave.

  


A pleasant rhythm quickly formed for Lucia. Days passed quickly with Mildred to talk to, and often learn from. Nights she spent on her own, save for the silent companionship of Elin. Lucia did her best to not think about how her guardian spent her nights. When she found her locket waiting for her one morning, repaired as though it had never been broken and with a small trinket she had thought forever lost returned to it, she knew a chapter of her life had been irrevocably closed. What that meant, exactly, she kept from her mind. It didn’t matter. Not much did there, aside from the new life, the new _her_ , that she was building. Days faded into weeks, and then into months. Occasionally, one of Mildred’s other children would visit, warmly welcoming their new sister. From time to time, as months melted into years, others followed in Lucia’s footsteps, and she was more than happy to play big sister to them. It was just shy of her thirtieth birthday that Lucia started to feel the desire to step out into the world again. She didn’t have to say anything, she rarely did with Mildred. The morning that she had made up her mind, she came downstairs to find a pack waiting for her, along with a neatly wrapped box. Inside was a set of charm maker’s tools. They were smaller and less numerous than what Mildred’s workshop contained, but easier to carry and more than adequate for most things. “You really do have the knack for it,” Mildred said, returning Lucia’s thankful hug.  


“Thank you, Mom. For everything,” Lucia said.  


“Anything for one of my children. Even one of the grown ones.” Mildren smiled playfully as Lucia said her goodbyes to the siblings who happened to be present. “And remember, you’re always welcome back home. Don’t hesitate to come back if things get bad. Or if they go well.” She paused, kissing Lucia’s forehead as she gave her one last hug. “Or even if you just want a slice of cake or two.”  


“I will,” Lucia said, wiping a couple tears from her eyes as she set out, confident in the future she was going to make.

**Author's Note:**

> A dear friend of mine posted a writing prompt, with an addition onto it. Surprisingly, I actually finished it. So now I'm finally getting around to posting it.


End file.
